"Have you got many brothers and sisters?" asked the little girl, her voice full of sympathy.
"Five," answered Sam, piteously.
"O papa," said the little girl, "let him take your carpet-bag. Think of it, his mother hasn't got anything to eat."
"Well, Clara," said her father, indulgently, "I suppose I must gratify you. Here, boy, take the bag, and carry it carefully."
"All right, sir," said Sam, cheerfully.
"I guess I can get along," he thought, complacently. "That's a good dodge."
"When we get to Broadway, we'll take the stage," said the gentleman. "Take hold of my hand, tight, Clara, while we cross the street."
Clara seemed disposed to be sociable, and entered into conversation with the young baggage-smasher.
"Are your brothers and sisters younger than you?" she inquired.
"Yes," said Sam.